When it all goes wrong. Painfully wrong.

This morning was terrible. Terrible.
It started out okay  . . . but it went to shit in very short order.

We had a play date booked with a friend that Sweet Pea asks to see all the time. Unfortunately, lately the mommy schedules have been incompatible. But finally the stars aligned, and today was the day! So I got the kids dressed, did the requisite diaper change, packed up snacks for the diaper bag, and stepped out the door exactly on time. It was then that I realized I did not have my car keys. They weren't on the hook by the door. They weren't in the diaper bag pocket where I always leave them. Where could they be? I stepped back inside to look for them. They're usually in one of a few places - on the stove, the kitchen table, the coffee table, or the bookshelf. They were in none of those places . . . but my lip gloss was on the couch. And then I realized Boober had been digging around in, and subsequently removing things from, the diaper bag pocket. My blood pressure rose a little higher.

"Boober, did you take mommy's keys?"
Nods yes.
"Where are they?"
Points at the fridge.
They were not in the fridge.

After 30 minutes of fruitless searching I decided I should probably call and let the other party know we were going to be late, or not present at all. It was then that I discovered that my phone was missing too. So I did what I always do when I can't find my phone - went to the internet to first send myself an email (I can sometimes locate the phone by the email alert) or to send Mr. Wonderful a 'please call me' message.

THE FUCKING INTERNET WAS DOWN!!

I started sweating, I was so tense. No phone, no internet, no car.

Okay  . . . so . . . bikes? Can't bring Boober along. My bike is the only bike in existence that can't accomodate a baby seat, and we can't find a bike trailer that we like that is a reasonable price.
Walk? I was going to, but the wagon was full of wet bits of tree and mud. And our play date was about 5km away, which is nothing by car or bike, but a serious hike with 2 littles in tow.

By now we were closing in on an hour late. So I went to a neighbour, and then another neighbour, and eventually I found someone at home and used their phone to call our play date, and then Mr. Wonderful.
And then we went back home.
The cell phone finally turned up (thanks to the ringing sound) down the side of the rocking chair in the nursery.
The internet problem was corrected. (I didn't know you had to turn on the modem and router in a certain order. Huh.)
And the car keys? It's taken all day, but the car keys have been found. In Burlington. A 2 hour drive away.
Sweet Zombie Jesus.

Baby's first . . . .

Monday was such a DAY! You know what I mean, right?
Uneventful. Nothing super exciting. And then it became a day of infamy! A day that will live in memory, and be dredged up over and over again throughout the years.
It was 2:45ish when Boober got a little whiny. Nap time! So I took him upstairs and started the process of attempting to get the little bugger to sleep. Boober hates sleeping, so after about a half hour of fighting him, I gave up and took him downstairs. Sweet Pea had fallen asleep on the floor of the livingroom. When Boober saw this, he went charging toward her, giggling and shreiking. He jumped on top of her and gave her a big snuggly hug . . . and then went on his way. Over the next 15 minutes or so, he returned to his sister over and over again to hug, prod, and poke at her. It was on one of these trips that he climbed on her back. He must have startled her, because Sweet Pea tossed him. He landed with a very loud WHACK! and spent approximately 75 seconds crying. There was no bump, no lump, no real mark except for some lines on his forehead.

Honestly, is this the face of a child watching his favourite TV show? (20 minutes before the issue became known)

 Since he was so easy to console, I put it out of my mind. Clearly, he was just fine. I turned on some Yo Gabba Gabba and let the kids watch while I started tidying up the kitchen. Less than half an hour later, Boober was tugging at my pant legs and whining again. It was just about 4 - traditionally his witching hour. I picked him up and sat on the couch to console him. He gave a mighty heave and barfed all over me and the couch. I had just barely cleaned myself and the couch off while Boober dozed on my shoulder when he went for round 2. It was about then that I made the connection -- when he was tossed, Boober had landed on his head. And now he was vomiting, and passing out, and acting all wrong. He hadn't been dancing to the tunes on his show. He was refusing to eat or drink anything. This was all very, very wrong.
Boober had a concussion.
Of course, due to Murphy's law, my car keys were in Mr. Wonderful's car. In Guelph. 45 minutes away. In retrospect, I should have called an ambulance - but it didn't seem all that dire at first. He was drowsy, yes, but he was concious -- and then suddenly he wasn't anymore, and it was almost impossible to wake him, and even when I could, he couldn't stay awake for more than a few seconds at a time. And he just kept barfing and barfing - everytime I changed his shirt (and mine) he would go again. I was absolutely terrified. Was my baby dying? Mr. Wonderful was only minutes away from home by now -- should I call an ambulance anyway?
So as soon as Wonderful came through the door (early and in a rush, since I had called him) I packed Boober into his car seat and drove like hell for the ER.
We sat in the waiting room for 6 hours. At first, Boober would only lay on my shoulder. He barfed a few more times. Then little by little, he started returning to himself. He sat up on my lap and observed the others in the waiting room. He walked over to the vending machines and pushed the buttons. He did a little colouring. He asked for yogurt and ate the whole thing himself. He did some more colouring. He started being friendly with the other people in the waiting room. He ate another yogurt. He ran for the door over and over. Just when he started loudly demanding chocolate bars, we got an exam room.

Long story short, by the time they got to him, Boober was completely back to his old mischievous self again. He was diagnosed with a minor concussion and we were sent home.

 Why will today be dredged up over and over? Because Sweet Pea gave Boober his first concussion. And because Mr. Wonderful was the concussion king as a child. He got one every year . . . and now it looks like Boober may be trying to keep up. So while I'd just like to forget about it and move on, that's very unlikely.

She's crafty.

The days are getting warmer, sunnier, and definitely rainier around here. We've been spending as much time as we can out in the yard. Letting the kids run like puppies and get as dirty as they want is advantageous when it rolls around to time to go in again.
This year, the kids are both loving bikes, scooters, and the make-shift sandbox I put together for them. It's essentially a plastic tote the size of 2 shoe boxes side by side, with a few inches of sand in the bottom. It's good for them because they have a sandbox, and good for me because it can be put in the shed in case of rain, or cats full of pee/poop.

There's still much going on in the crafty realms . . .











And I finished my really colourful socks, but there was great disappointment there as the colour on the yarn was not fixed, and bled all over the place when they were washed. BOOOOOO! The dyer was contacted and offered replacement, which is great. I'll have to make something that will not be washed with it this time. Any suggestions? It's a light fingering weight.

My new-found skill: crochet. What is up with crochet patterns? If it's not amigurumi or a blanket square, it's just fugly. This is a gross generalization, of course, but . . . seriously! I'm having a hard time finding anything I want to make. Maybe this is why crochet hasn't come together for me in the past. I did find a hat pattern this morning, so I'll try my hand at that one, but after that?? I dunno.

And then there's this: this morning I logged on to Facebook and saw the status update of a friend. Her friend's 2 year old is fighting with leukemia and having a very difficult go of it. The little girl is losing her hair, so my friend is looking for donations of hats for the wee one. The call was quickly answered by LOTS of others. I didn't offer to make a hat. But all morning long, the thought of this poor little kid just ate at me. 2 years old and fighting a difficult, uphill battle. And apparently not doing so well with it. So I did something. I offered to make the little one a doll. Not a Waldorf doll - those are too expensive (time and materials) for me to be giving away like it's nothing . . . just a cloth doll. Every kid should have a cuddly buddy to hold their hand while they face challenges and frightening events, right?
But I really wish I could send her a Waldorf doll. There is something about the weight and sturdiness of those dolls that just makes them extra comforting.

I can't help everyone. But I wish I could.

Just what I needed. Another hobby.

Did I just take up crochet??



Yeah, I kinda did.Or at least, in this case, it was the thing that made the most sense. I'm pretty impressed that I pulled it off - although I did try another pattern and failed pretty spectacularly to really 'get it'. I just can't figure out what the pattern wants me to do, and if I'm in the right place to do it.

And then just last week I ordered 3 patterns from a great Etsy seller called WeeLittleStitches, so now I'm neck-deep in cross stitch again, because . . . let's be honest - these patterns are too great to just have and not stitch up.

So between those things, and doll-making (and doll clothes) I'm not getting any knitting done. And of course, the spread of materials around our already congested and cluttered home is getting really out of control, because I can't be expected to keep it all in one place, can I??

I think my husband's going to leave me. I'm not even sure my kids recognize me. It's bad. It's really, really bad.

Boober's new ears

2 weeks ago, Boober went to the hospital for his first surgery. He had myringotomy tubes inserted in his ears. In the days leading up to Boober's surgery I was going a little out of my mind with nervous energy. I started a million new projects. It will probably take me months to finish them all. And then it was 24 hours to the surgery, and I felt like it was all out of my hands anyway. I did as much prep as I could - packed the diaper bag with lots of diapers, spare outfits for everyone, snacks. Laid out all the coffee thermoses, set the coffee maker to do it's thing automatically at something like 5:20am . . . and then we went to bed.

My worry was that Boober (who was not supposed to eat or drink anything after midnight) would wake and demand to nurse at 2am. He didn't. In fact, we couldn't have planned it better if we had tried -- Boober woke at 5:30am, just in time to join us for our exit. With coffee, snacks, and a full diaper bag in tow, we made our way to the hospital, where we did a whole lot of waiting.




We waited to check in (we were 30 minutes early)

We waited for our call to the OR.

We waited for anesthesia to come get our baby (this was probably the worst part for me).

We waited while they did the surgery.

I comforted Boober in recovery while he came out of the anesthesia - he was clearly not impressed. Until we got the go-ahead to nurse. Then he was quite happy again.

We waited to go back to pediatrics.

We waited for the release approval and paperwork.

Then we went home.



There really wasn't much to it. Boober was only miserable when they were checking his stats, and when he was coming out of his anesthesia. Aside of those events, he was having a great time running around the halls of the hospital, playing with new toys, and exploring.

His recovery was just as uneventful. He's done really well all around. And through this surgery, we've come to understand that Boober really did have limited hearing. He's responding to things in a way he just didn't before. He's even got some new sounds, and words. He sings songs, and does actions. Seriously -- Itsy Bitsy Spider, Skinamarink, ADORABLE. I've definitely seen a benefit. I can even finally share a cute Boober interaction story with you now:

Boober is flipping through a book and sees a picture of a chicken.
Me: Hey Boober, what does a chicken say?
Boober: Duck, duck!
Me: No, no, baby. Cluck, cluck.
Boober: (gives me a look of 'what is WRONG with you??') Yeah, duck duck.

later - Boober sees a picture of a dog.
Me: What does a puppy dog say?
Boober: Baa, baa!
Me: No, honey. Puppies say bark, bark.
Boober: (nodding, very solemn) baa! Baa!

Stuff I made

There was this thing:




And there was this thing:




And then I made this for a swap:



And then I made this thing for testing purposes/fun/Boober:





And finally, I'm currently making these colourful things:





Also, I'm working on another doll . . . nearly done!

In which Gramps becomes modeled

I had to let him play with my phone to get photos, but I did it! And he wore the sweater all day.





This one kills me. If you're going to take my picture, I'm going to take yours!!